Two Aspirin and a Glass of Milk
by SaiFy
Summary: Waking up naked in a strange bed with a hangover certainly wasn't pleasant, especially when she could most deffinitely feel a living warmth under the sheets beside her. But perhaps it wasn't the worst thing that could've happened to her? Short little Velsea Oneshot!


Chelsea's head pounded as her eyes opened to the morning light coming in through the windows of the motel room. She could barely remember last night, even after 10 minutes of sitting in a half-awake and hung over daze; everything was a haze in her mind. All she could recall was a whirlwind of drinks sliding down her throat and warming her gut, having a drunken talk with Denny about their matching bandanas ("BANDANA BROS FOR LIFE, BITCHES!" they'd yelled, gaining the attention of many other party goers), and silver hair on a head with the prettiest set of purple eyes. Sitting up, greasy feeling blankets falling from her form, she gasped as she felt a cool draft fan over her body.

**_She was naked!_**

Indeed, her chestnut brown hair fell down her bare back and shoulders and her pale skin was fully exposed, shamelessly presented to the world. Looking down at herself she was painfully aware of the dark purple and red marks down her chest and neck, blushing a bright red as she imagined the feel of a mouth on her skin creating them. It was only then that the pain in her hips and lower back made itself known, confirming to her what she didn't want to believe. Frantically pulling the covers further up north to cover herself, she slowly allowed herself to turn her head, preparing to look at the space beside her with frantic icy blue eyes. Yet, she lost her nerve before her eyes landed on the space and she clamped them shut. She was afraid of who she'd see. She'd come to the party with a wide array of friends, some male, and she feared that it might be Denny or maybe even Mark. She couldn't stomach the thought of ruining their friendship like this. She'd never had a one night stand before, but how else could she explain her state of dress and the warmth beside her? Finally letting her eyes roam over the person, she was struck by the same shaggy silver hair from her memory. He was asleep, but she didn't have to guess- his eyes were purple. She knew they were. They had to be. But she almost couldn't believe it.

_Vaughn, of all people, was not who she expected to lose her virginity to!_

Suddenly he groaned and his eyes flitted open, much to her dismay. What she wouldn't give for the bed to swallow her whole so that she'd never have to face him! He sat up, an empty bottle of some alcoholic substance falling from his hand as he brought it up to run through his shaggy silver mane. He had pale ivory skin, the color of cream satin, and she found herself staring at his exposed chest and wanting to die as she could clearly see a few hickies littering his skin as well. She didn't believe she was capable of such a dirty act, yet there lie the unmistakable proof that _oh yes, she was __**very**__ capable of giving a man a nice dark hickey!_ She tensed, a blush on her cheeks as he seemed to become aware of another presence in his bed. She could see confusion and even some fear on his face as he turned, slowly, to look at her.

Their eyes met.

The man blushed almost immediately, seeing her state of dress, and reached up for something only to grasp at air. He was reaching for his hat, she assumed. She would have giggled at the action if it wasn't for their current situation. Both just stared at one another for a long time, not making a movement or even breathing. Vaughn's eyes were not cold and guarded as she was used to, and for once in her life she could see the emotions that danced behind a shield of indifferent amethyst. Vaughn looked almost defeated as he sighed, rather loudly in her opinion as the drama queen he apparently was, and flopped back down onto the bed. She really wasn't sure what to do. Should she just get up and leave, without a word? Should she yell at him? Should she beg him not to tell a soul? No, she decided. She'd...she;d just be casual and it would all be okay! Yes, that'd do just fine! Vaughn didn't seem the type to make a big deal out of anything, so she'd do the same.

And it seemed she was fairly correct, for just as her words slipped past her lips the very same sentence came from his mouth as well.

"This is why I don't drink." they'd both muttered, turning to look at one another with an expression lost between seriousness and taunting.

And even after all that she had felt, and the pure realism of their current predicament, she couldn't help but giggle to herself quietly. Despite Vaughn's quietness, she could see a mirth dancing in his eyes as well and she somehow knew that everything would be alright. Perhaps, just maybe, out of _all_ the people this could've happened with, Vaughn wasn't so bad after all?


End file.
